Late Bloomer
by MikauKaiousei
Summary: It's that time of the month for Hermione, and she hasn't ever gone through this before, as suggested by the title. ^_^ Interesting things happen. Small amount of R/Hr.


Late Bloomer

A/N: Set in book five, although it has no bearing whatsoever on the plot of anything.  It's _slightly _AU, because…well, certain things in it would have been extremely vital to continuity, but are basically impossible.  So, just play along, eh?

Oh, I would also like to say that I am not a woman, so I'm just writing this the way I think it would happen.  If I get any facts wrong, don't hesitate to tell me, girls!

BTW, FLUFF ALERT!  BEWARE!

            Hermione woke up with a horrible feeling in her lower belly.  In fact, she awoke with the most awful groans she had ever made.  She even startled Lavender out of sleep.

            "Hermione, what on earth is going on?" she demanded.  Parvati sat up, too, groggily rubbing her eyes.

            "I…don't know…it hurts…" Hermione moaned.  

            "Oh, wait…I know what it is.  It's that time of the month for you, isn't it?" Lavender said, grinning slightly.

            Hermione _normally _would have gone bolt upright, insisting that it was no such thing, thank you very much!  However, the pain in her abdomen kept her from doing that.

            "It should fade after a while," Lavender said, patting her hand.  "Don't try any spells on it, though.  That'll just make it worse."

            Hermione nodded pitifully.  Lavender went over to Parvati's bed, and they began to speak in a monotone.

            _They're talking about me; I'm sure of it! _Hermione thought.  _They can't leave me in peace, ever, can they?  _She neglected to actually listen to the conversation; instead, she stood, and stalked as well as she could to the fifth-year girl's shower.

            The warm water cascading down her body eased the pain somewhat, and Hermione was tempted to cast a Pain-Killing Charm on herself.  But, she was sure she'd read somewhere that interfering with natural processes like this could be harmful, or even fatal, depending on the Charm cast.  So she simply dealt with the…unfortunate side-effects as her mother had taught her in the summer before her third year.  She recalled _that _particular scene with acute embarrassment.

_            "Mum, this'll never happen!"_

_            "Hermione, dear, it never hurts to be prepared.  Just do what I showed you; if you're anything like me, you'll be in pain for a little while.  Don't worry about how much it hurts, though.  It should stop after a few minutes, and you can always take an aspirin to relieve it."_

_            Hermione was sorely tempted to discard this advice with a "Whatever", but decided against it.  She never said that word, if she could help it.  At least, not in that fashion._

            Blushing slightly, she dressed herself quickly and hurried down to the common room to meet with Ron and Harry.

            The threesome made their way to breakfast, where the two boys proceeded to stuff themselves with their usual abandon, while Hermione felt too nauseated to eat more than a piece of toast, lightly buttered.  She immediately began to regret that butter.

            Their first class was Charms, which was one of Hermione's favorites.  She took her accustomed seat, as close to Flitwick as possible.  Harry and Ron settled into their adjacent chairs resignedly.  (Hermione was positive that, without her influence, they would be in the back, flinging spitwads…or the wizarding equivalent…over Flitwick's line of sight.)

            "Today, we'll be discussing the Aurora Charm," Flitwick said.  "Can anyone tell me what it does?"

            Hermione's hand shot into the air.  She barely waited for Flitwick to nod before speaking.  "The Aurora Charm is primarily used as a decorating tool, as it creates beautiful streams of colorful light in any shape you desire.  It can, however, be used as a dueling spell as a diversionary tactic or an aid to illusion."  Their textbooks that year focused rather heavily on the dueling aspect of every spell they learned, something Hermione suspected Dumbledore of insuring.  Even their Potions had something of a dueling bent; they were currently studying Barrier Potions.

            "Very good, Miss Granger!  Five points to Gryffindor!"  Flitwick pulled out his wand, a tiny, three-inch thing that always made Hermione feel like her mother; she had to suppress the urge to squeal "How _adorable!_" every time she saw it.

            "Now, there are two incantations.  Can anyone tell me what they are?"

            Again, Hermione raised her hand.  "_Irodzuku Borealis _and _Irodzuku Australis,_" she said.

            "Very good!  Mister Potter, would you care to estimate why there are two incantations?"

            Harry frowned.  Hermione chewed her lip in frustration; she hated it when teachers deliberately called on other students.

            "…because there are two Auroras in nature?" he guessed.

            "Exactly!" Flitwick beamed.  "Aurora Borealis, the Northern Lights, and Aurora Australis, the Southern Lights!  The Northern Aurora derivative produces cool, green or blue shades, while the Southern Aurora creates red or yellow hues.  The incantations also have a Japanese element to them, as the Japanese were the first to develop this spell.  Now, if you would hold your wands up…swish and flick, remember, _Irodzuku Borealis!_"

            A glorious spray of light spewed from Flitwick's wand.  It shimmered between green and purple.  

            Hermione spoke the incantation perfectly, swishing and flicking…but the pain in her gut abruptly returned.  The accustomed, calm swell and flow of magic within her turned into a violent swirling of energy that raced torrentially out of her wand.

            A huge splotch of green and purple sprayed out of her wand, hovering in the air.  Unfortunately, the colors clashed horribly, and actually began to strike sparks against each other, quickly bursting into blue, yellow, and red flames that were _not _part of the spell's effects.

            Harry had cast his spell simultaneously with Hermione's, and his created a perfect, though small, stripe of cool green and blue.  Ron, of course, was so busy staring at Hermione that his spell simply produced a spark of green that faded easily.

            The flames spread out from Hermione's general area, enveloping the other auroras her classmates had Charmed.  They all burst into terribly mismatched fires that filled the room.  Luckily, they were illusion, and didn't actually burn anything…but the damage was done.

            "_Finite Incantatem!_" Hermione cried, brandishing her wand boldly.  White sparks flew out of it, which was supposed to happen…but the Charm didn't fade away.  Rather, it redoubled in fury.

            _"Finite Incantatem!_" Flitwick, Harry, and Ron all shouted.  More white sparks flew, dissolving the primarily-colored flames.

            "Miss Granger…I'm surprised at you!" Flitwick said, when all the damage was erased.  "You've never botched a Charm that badly!  I'm afraid I must retract those five points from Gryffindor."

            Hermione stared at Flitwick.  She had lost points in Potions, in Divination, in Ancient Runes once, but never in Charms!  The only thing worse would be to have Professor McGonagoll witness this!

            Tears leaked out of her eyes.  "_Aurora Australis!_" she shouted.  Her Charm, perhaps overpowered by her anguish, filled the entire room with brilliant, Chudley Cannons-worthy orange and Weasley red.  

Her brain was still working perfectly; she cast a Banishing Charm on the light.  Again, her magic ripped through her body painfully, drawing a cloud of shocking illusion around her as she raced out of the room, sobbing.

She threw herself into Moaning Myrtle's bathroom, the closest to the Charms class, and cried bitterly.  Moaning Myrtle herself was repulsed by the brilliance of her "aura", and stayed away, not realizing who was crying so much.  

            When someone came into the room, the light was mostly gone.  "Hermione?"  It was Ron.

            "Go away," she said, her voice muffled by her hands, which covered her face.  She pulled the stall door shut and shot the bolt home.

            "Hermione, it's okay!"  Harry, this time.  "We've all made mistakes, it's not that bad!"

            She didn't bother to explain herself.  She simply started crying all the more.

            A tentative knock on her stall door came.  "Go _away,_" she shouted, suddenly angry.  She whipped out her wand.  "_Everte Stratum!_"

            The spell, which should have ripped the door off of its hinges and sent whoever was knocking flying, rebounded and slammed her into the toilet, and making a crack in the wall behind her.  She began crying anew, from pain and heartache.

            "Hermione…_Alohomora!_"  The lock slid open, and the door swung out.  Hermione pulled her wand again, ready to renew her obscuring cloud, but Ron grabbed her arm first.

            Harry didn't come into the stall, perhaps wisely.  Hermione had gotten a small growth spurt, and Ron had never been short.  There wasn't an enormous amount of room left, and Ron was very close to her.

            Their faces were close together; Hermione's heart stopped for an agonizing second, then restarted furiously.  Ron's hand on her wrist seemed like a hot coal, and she could see his ears turning pink.

            "Hermione, don't cry," he said gently.  "It's okay."  His free hand came up, and wiped away a tear from her cheek.

            She stiffened slightly, and she could feel the heat radiating off of her face, and from Ron.  Though that heat wasn't exactly unwelcome…

            Harry unobtrusively slipped away.  He felt like he wasn't needed, and it was perhaps a good thing that he left.


End file.
